The Fury That Follows
by RuthlessBallard
Summary: Chakotay is a man consumed by his anger until one fateful day he materializes on a certain star ship. One shot.


Ever since I was a young boy, the fury has followed me. From the first spark of anger the fire within me ignited and has burned my soul from then on. Perhaps it was born from the atrocities my people have faced at the hands of fellow man. Perhaps it was a curse passed onto me from many moons ago that must go on unspoken. Perhaps I was simply born wrong. Whatever the reason, the fury follows.

I wish I could say overtime I have learned to tame the fury and allow it to just be another guide. But I am sorry to say I have failed. It has been my captor, my guide and I its muse. It has made me cold, bitter and at times cruel. It has made me a great warrior and an even better rebel. But it closed me off to the warmth I see so often in other people. Yes, even though I am burning alive, I have become so cold.

Thankfully, I am not completely consumed. I have found an outlet with the Maquis. We are a family and a band of lost souls fighting with all our strength. Like lepers we have been shunned and find comfort in others consumed with the fury. When on the battle field we feel most alive. They are a part of me as much as my father's name. I care for them deeply. I gladly take joy in their triumphs and weep beside them in their loss. In our companionship we remain human. But the fury still follows.

I have blood on my hands.

I have seen the life leave the eyes of my opponent.

I know the feeling of being the force behind the final blow.

Every night I go to bed well aware that I have been the face of death to many. I wish I could say that causes me pain. But to be honest, I still sleep soundly.

When I materialized on her ship, she meant nothing to me. She was just another suit. She was just another obstacle. She was nothing.

I was about to face off with that smug boy who joined us just to get back at his father. I was ready to take him down. I was ready to slide on my mask of death when she stepped in between us. She warned us what little it would do in our situation. A warrior must know when to strike, we were surrounded and stranded, the strike would do little for our benefit.

I stepped down and I looked at her, finally. She caught me by surprise. Sure she was everything I should hate. The vision of the fleet; rigid, clean cut, tight lip, closed mind and completely devoted to the regime. She should be the antithesis of who I am. But I could sense her fury. I could taste her anger.

She sits behind her desk now. I sit across as I try to analyze her. She's calm but passionate. She's so painfully Starfleet it should be a joke but the fury follows her as well. This is the first time in a long time where everything is not so black and white.

She asks me to join her crew.

"If we want to not only survive out here but make it home, we have to work together." she explains to me with such fervor

She insists on us being a Starfleet crew. I should scoff. I should mock her. I should tower over her, look into those pools of arctic blue and tell her that the fleet reign is over. But I don't. I say nothing. She must see me thinking. She continues to urge. She continues to paint out our situation. We are alone out here. So completely and helplessly alone. It's clear that is a new concept for her.

I know I have no choice.

She invites me to be her second in command. Again, I should scoff but I say nothing. She asks me to be by her side once more and I can sense of certain kindness under her authoritative tone. When she looks back at me, she does not look at me like I am rebel scum. When she looks at me she does not withdraw from my fury. She simply looks at me as a human being, sitting in her ready room, lost in the Delta Quadrant.

I look her and wait for my fury to guide me to an answer or to take hold of me. But for the first time since I was small boy, my fury does nothing.

I feel myself nod and the fury that follows, follows no more.

Who is this creature that goes by the name Kathryn? Who is this being who causes the flames to subside? She is infuriating. She is flawed. She is bull headed. She is prideful. But she is fascinating and she consumes me. The fury is a part of me as my blood is a part of my veins. But in her presence the fury subsides.

Suddenly, I can , I can clasp my hand without clenching. I can feel warmth underneath the cold. I should ask the spirits if this is what peace feels like because its something I have never known.

Kathryn, Chief of the Lost Tribe of Voyager, like my fury I will follow.


End file.
